And this man shall be the peace, when the Assyrian shall come into our land: and when he shall tread in our palaces, then shall we raise against him seven shepherds, and eight principal men.

As a burning light, His Star has risen in my heart; waves of vibrations fill my every thought, I have come to Him in Holy Prayer to know the Flavors of His Love; O my God how do I love thee, let me count the ways of Love; There in the morning light, do I praise your Name, There in my lowly estate, do I call unto thee my God; With a bursting Heart do I Greet your Spirit, for I know you are with me, There in the ends of your universe will I find your Love.

Sweet Prints, let my wings of heart blissen like Dove wings. Father, unspingle the tingles that are to run loosed. Create a flow of nectar and beauty of Yah. Break away the blocks of mental muck that try to beckon at my door. Please radiant me in Your wings of Life. You are so wonderful. I repent with every cell in my body that you will make me whole. I know I have a lot to learn, but I feel like I am ready for the journey that is ahead. I Love you, Father.

A throbbing of wind, a pounding of rocks, standing in time, as a broken clock,Seeing the pain, seeing the vain, knowing life has such strain,To leap the echoes, to hear the fog, seeing the night, feeling the smog;Jolting to outer fear of life’s form I hold, knowing the loss, knowing the cold,A pain in the heart, a shot to the soul, Great things left gone, in the wind’s knoll,Twice the Cain of falling grabs, never knowing it also stabs,

When I'm all alone in my reverie, I often still recall The things we children did for fun, and my favorite of them all. I picture life the way it was in frames my memory brings And in my fondest visions I have Images Of Swings. The swing set in the schoolyard where I often spent recess-- The great large swings down at the park (these were the very best)-- And my most joyful memory was the summer or the spring A man mom hired to do some chores built us a back yard swing.

Let me but do my work from day to day, In field or forest, at the desk or loom, In roaring market-place or tranquil room;

Let me but find it in my heart to say, When vagrant wishes beckon me astray, "This is my work; my blessing, not my doom; Of all who live, I am the one by whom This work can best be done in the right way."

O' Lord, I am counting on You to wind my clock and keep it in tune, to grace the leaves upon my forehead until they become rainbows of pleasantries in the wind. Lord, You are my strength which I hold onto. You are the battery that keeps me charged. You are the essence that fills my beling. You are the cup of which I drink. You are the All in All and the One of One; Father, I Love you, You keep the essence of my spirit uplifted in Your palms until I am as free as a bird, ready to take flight.

[chorus] I can hardly wait for Heaven Where I want to hear God play Country music on His guitar Like the songs I love today And I know God plays in Heaven He’s a country music man For I’ve heard that He’s the leader Of a country angel band

...IN MY DREAM... (Compare Joel 2:28) The Holy Spirit was felt powerfully that day! For about a half hour to an hour while at my work as a carpenter several months ago, I felt suspended in consciousness to a position several feet higher than my body. It seemed as if I was observing from a distance what I was doing. During this time I felt what I can best describe as a thickness in the air; a warm tingling feeling.

Yahvael, send me Your words of kindness, of love, and of grace. Paint my pen so that it may run gold. Curve my hand so that it may blend in Your colors of Life. Help me to find humbleness and patience: without these two things, I know it will be hard to succeed. Yet my mind races around the clock, and I feel I am lost. But You pick me up and say, "Come now, little one, keep your chin up. I will be with you now and until the end of time." You know my heart's desire. I know I must put it before the altar.

A white cloud passing, A blue sky, blurred by the tear, Come to golden grains, of ripen thought, Understand the sin of fraught, A youth based cry, far from the rye of life, Defines the gulf of fixed understanding, near as gold, The contempt of the shamed heart pierced through unto pains of thy youth; come fourth, through the small trails of knowledge, left to us by the ascended parents past; as over- thoughts passing as waves of warm winds come together to hearken the songs that raise to life the dead acts of the past; grains tossed to the wind, have taken root, unto a sweet fruit souls sounding the cries, of eternal Love, now coming fourth,